And then he finally took a leap of faith
by likingthistoomuch
Summary: Sherlock has nightmares and Molly helps with the fallout (my Smutember entry for a competition held on the other site)


She had been half way through her dinner, irritated at being disturbed while watching Queen Victoria and Prince Albert playing out their relationship on TV. For once she was glad Sherlock had used his key; no way was she going to miss the scene playing out as the royals played the piano.

Sherlock sat at the other end of the sofa, slowly and steadily picking at the popcorn until she got up during the break and heated the leftovers for him in the microwave. Back in her seat before the break was over, she didn't even realise when Sherlock finished his meal or when he left the room.

A smile on her face as she re-played the scenes between the young queen and the prince in her mind, as she cleaned up and went to bed. Sherlock had already changed and was fast asleep. This was the third consecutive night he had appeared at her flat, giving no explanation but simply eating and going to bed.

Whatever! was her last thought as she snuggled into her pillow and fell asleep. Until she was woken up by Sherlock babbling and arguing in his sleep. He was agitated, as if losing an argument and he seemed to get more distressed, her attempt to soothe him failing miserably. He then sat up, taking deep breaths as he tried to take in his surroundings before collapsing back on the pillow.

"You ok?" It was all she could think of asking.

He turned to her sharply, as if surprised to her there. He paused for a moment before lunging and almost tackle hugging her, his breaths coming fast yet unsteady. She could feel his heart thumping and so gently moved one hand over his back. They lay in that position for quite some time as she continued to try and pacify him.

She remained still as he breathed, his face hidden in the crook of her neck. She could feel him gradually relax, the tension leaving his body. She expected him to move and return to his side of the bed but was surprised when he didn't. His arms, instead of loosening, tightened around her and his nose buried further into her neck. Molly lay motionless, not sure what that change meant, not wanting to think at all. They stayed in that weirdly intimate pose for some time... until she felt his lips on her neck.

Molly blinked… surely that didn't just happen. Maybe he was moving his head back and it accidently-…no! This time, it wasn't just a touch but a kiss, a light one but still a kiss.

Molly dared not breathe for the fear that the moment would break but when he tentatively kissed her neck again, she couldn't help but bunch his shirt instead of merely hold him. It seemed to be the signal Sherlock needed.

He shifted his hand from where he was gripping her arm to her back, enfolding her as he explored the topography of her neck and shoulders. He then nudged gently with his nose in the lightest of touches that Molly felt marked her skin. Her body was tense yet shivering as a current flowed through her veins. When she dared to open her eyes and glance at him, he was staring at her exposed shoulder with a mild frown before ducking again, trailing a line of kisses from it to the pulse point in her neck. Molly felt herself get lost in that glorious sensation, moving her head in a way that fully exposed her throat.

Sherlock seemed to gain confidence, moving his hand from her back to her waist where her shirt had ridden up, slowly moving it upwards until he was finally touching her breast. It was a heady sensation as he moved his hand lightly over her now hard nipple, the thin cotton of her bra providing additional friction. But it wasn't enough. Thankfully for both of them as Sherlock made a growling sound and quickly moved to remove the clasp. He then just pushed the bra away, fondling one breast and then the other. As Molly arched her back in response, he dipped his head, flicking one taut nipple with his tongue. She gulped, moving her hand into those thick curls to hold his head in place. She almost saw stars behind closed eyes as his mouth continued to work its magic as it sucked and tugged and grazed the tight bud before moving his attention to the other one.

Sucking and nipping at one breast with his mouth while fondling the other with his hand, Sherlock seemed to grow more confident at the moans that now escaped her. Now almost writhing under him, Molly felt as if each and every nerve had come alive and become doubly sensitive. This was Sherlock; he seemed to understand what would please her more. When he tugged her nipple lightly with his teeth, she thought she would almost come apart.

But she held on, even though barely.

When he looked up at her finally, a small smile playing on his lips at the sound she had made, Molly threw all caution to the wind. She pulled him towards her, ignoring the slight twinge in her heart when he turned his face away, guiding her seeking mouth to his neck. The sigh that escaped him when she kissed at the sensitive skin there encouraged her to continue her exploration with renewed vigour.

Moving her hands from his curls to his shirt, she pulled the garment over his head and threw it away as if it personally offended her. She always knew Sherlock was lean and had a good build but he still took her breath away. In the moonlight seeping through her curtains, he looked like an Elgin marble, the pale torso almost glowing in the dark. She took pleasure from the breath he drew when she touched his long neck, moving her hands slowly down his torso, smiling at his hitched breath when she ghosted over his nipples. But she wanted more...wanted to explore, taste, feel that body. Holding his shoulders, she pushed and rolled them until their positions were interchanged, with him now looking up at her with an undecipherable look.

Molly bent as if to kiss him but he again showed his neck instead, indicating his preference. Not particularly bothered, she kissed and sucked and nipped at that glorious column of his throat, almost marking him in the process. She then moved down his chest, licking, tasting, inhaling the essence of that man. Somewhere along the way, she got rid of her shirt and bra, regaling in the sensation of her skin on his.

Sherlock sat up, fisted his hands in her hair and pulled her up. He then explored her throat with his mouth in a way that was sure to give her marks. Now straddling him, feeling him harden under her she felt confident, glorious. Her body was on fire, the sensation in her belly warm and marvellous. When he took her breast again in her mouth, Molly almost cried out. She rubbed her core against him, with his wonderful mouth working her breasts and his hands now kneading her bottom. It was not long before her grip in his hair became almost painful as she mewled, her back arching as her orgasm hit.

Hiding her face in the crook of his neck, Molly felt very conscious at falling apart so fast. And they weren't even completely undressed yet. The small smirk on Sherlock's face made him look smug…that didn't help matters either.

Feeling almost embarrassed at what she thought was a thoroughly wanton display, she made to move off him. He openly grinned at that, tightening his arms around her and rolling her under him.

"Not so fast," he huskily muttered.

Molly suddenly felt shy under his direct gaze, but had no time to dwell on it as Sherlock nipped at her shoulder leading in towards the hollow at the base of her throat. Molly closed her eyes, glorying in the sensation flowing through her body. She arched her back when Sherlock mouthed her breast, working on it until she was moaning her approval. He then started laying kisses while moving slowly towards her navel and stomach. Hooking his fingers, he pulled both her underwear and her pyjama pants at the same time, leaving her completely exposed. His face went blank as he just stared at her, as if he was recording what he was seeing. Surprisingly, Molly didn't feel awkward; it was as if all her inhibitions were removed along with her garments. She smiled and pulled his head up, wanting to taste those luscious lips. Instead Sherlock hid his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deep and fast while holding her even tighter. It seemed he was trying to gather himself, the sight of her lying exposed beneath him proving to be unnerving or disconcerting.

She held him close, a hand now in his curls while the other stroked his back. It seemed to soothe him as well as excite him at the same time as he started nuzzling and kissing her neck while moving his hips against her in a rhythmic motion. She knew he was excited, could feel his erection against her belly. Getting a dose of courage from the moan that escaped him when she scraped his scalp, Molly squeezed his buttock with her other hand which almost made him bite her. As she gasped at his action Sherlock got on his elbows, a grin on his face as he moved and took off his pajama pants and boxers off in a single motion.

The picture of the Elgin marble was now complete.

"Aaah," she gasped as he rubbed himself against her now dripping core. He looked and felt hot, the action absolutely wanton and sexy. Reaching for the side table, she grabbed a packet and tore it open. Staring into his eyes, she grasped him and helped roll the condom on, rubbing his sheathed length a few times. She grinned back wickedly when his hips buckled and he almost collapsed on her.

Narrowing his eyes and growling, he grabbed her hands and held them above her head as he rubbed her centre again. She raised her hips, trying to follow him and find more friction, which made him smirk. It faded when he moved to enter her slowly, then withdrew before sinking in completely.

They remained still for that moment, joined and as one, before he picked up speed. He released her hands which clawed his back and then grabbed his butt. Molly moved her hips along with his, searching successfully for the friction she again craved. Moans escaped her as they both moved to the age old rhythm. She could soon feel her crest approaching. She moved her hips trying to chase that elusive release until she suddenly found it, her inner muscles tightening around him as she wailed out her pleasure.

There was a pause as she rode out the wave, hugging him close as possible, her breaths coming in gasps. Sherlock waited until she collapsed back before starting to move, her whispered encouragements pushing him further. His speed was now brutal yet erratic, the sound of their bodies slapping together weirdly erotic. Until his back stiffened, his hold on her becoming almost painful, his face scrunched up as he hit his orgasm. Collapsing onto her he waited for a moment before rolling off her, trying to catch his breath.

They lay next to each other in silence, as if both were trying to savour each and every memory. He then rose quietly and went to the bathroom, while she just soaked herself in the warmth that now permeated through each and every pore. She felt sated, her bones now like warm molasses.

Her enjoyment of the moment was curtailed when she realised Sherlock was taking much more time than necessary. Pulling on her shirt and track bottoms, she approached the bathroom door.

"You ok?" She hated how meek she sounded. It had been so unlike Sherlock to seek intimacy that she was now worried.

"I'm fine. Just need a moment. Go to bed Molly."

His muffled answer didn't assuage her but to be honest she was knackered. And having multiple orgasms didn't help either. She tried her best to stay awake but soon fell asleep.

She woke up half expecting to see the other side of her bed empty. But it was occupied by a Sherlock curled into a tight ball and facing away from her. He had placed as much distance between them as possible without him falling off. Though he was fast asleep, there were still dark circles under his eyes and he looked tired. She wondered how long he had stayed up before finally falling asleep.

Not wanting to disturb him and hoping he would gain enough rest, she rose and went to her kitchen. She started the kettle before visiting the bathroom and brushing her teeth. Tea mug in hand, Molly stood by her living room window looking at the tree branch helping to filter the morning light. Sherlock always left before she woke up. Right now, she just couldn't face any coldness or aloofness from him, as was to be expected. Rather gather your wits in private Hooper, she told herself as she planned to go out for a walk in what seemed like a lovely morning. Considering what had happened the previous night, she wanted to give him an easy out and maybe mutually pretend nothing had happened.

She had no idea how long she had been standing there, but must've been long enough as her tea was now tepid. Sighing and turning around, she almost yelped at the sight of a pyjama Sherlock leaning against her bedroom door, staring at her.

She blushed; she hadn't expected him to wake up so soon. But she couldn't move either; it was as if the sight of him had her arrested in that spot. After staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, Sherlock approached her. He took the mug from her hand, placed it on the table and turned back to face her.

"You woke up early," His sleep roughened voice playing tricks with her pulse.

"I-," she paused and then decided then to be completely honest with him, to let him know she was ok if he wanted to pretend the previous night never occurred. "I wanted to give you space after…after that happened."

It was now him that looked awkward…even a little shy. Holding her hands he came nearer, his eyes not moving from their hands. Standing right in front of her, he finally looked up and then bent to place a kiss on her cheek.

Just as Molly sighed he let go of her hands and held her face, his eyes locking onto hers. It was then that he dipped his head and placed a small kiss on her lips. Weirdly, the act felt even more intimate than what they had been up to the previous night. Staring into his eyes, which were very blue in the morning light, she saw his uncertainty at which she took control, pulling his head down and finally getting to taste those luscious lips.

It was like a dam broke. Sherlock held her tightly, responding to her like a drowning man who had been thrown a line. Deepening the kiss, he pulled her flush to him, one hand in her hair to keep her head in place and the other at her back keeping her close.

This was the missing link, the gossamer thin safeguard that had been present even when they had indulged the previous night. This was Sherlock with all shutters down, kissing her like his life depended on it. When she moved her hands to his hair tugging them slightly, he moaned into her throat, a rich sound that turned her bones to molasses.

They stumbled into the kitchen, her back against the wall as Sherlock continued to kiss her with a fervour she would never have associated with him. He explored her neck with his mouth and his hands roved all over her back as he rocked his hips against her. She responded wonderfully to his ministrations, holding onto his shoulders for support. Sherlock discarded her shirt and pyjamas and plonked her on the kitchen table. He then concentrated on her breasts, kissing her all the time and somewhere along the way, also getting rid of his clothes.

This time when they came together, it was frantic and wild and desperate and Molly thanked her stars that her neighbours were out for a holiday. She would never have been able to face them as she was sure the noises they made carried through the walls.

Later, naked and sweaty, Sherlock leaned his head on her shoulder and started shaking. She hugged him closer, hoping to help him anywa-…he was laughing. She was shocked for a second but his laughter was contagious and soon she was laughing with him, until tears were rolling down their faces.

As they slowly caught their breath, Sherlock gave her a shy smile. He touched her lips tenderly and then stood with his forehead touching hers, his eyes closed.

"I've never wanted to kiss anyone before," his voice a bit rough and unsteady. "For some reason I always believed that your deepest thoughts and feelings are conveyed- that you are the most exposed when you kiss someone you care about."

As he saw understanding dawn on her face, he continued but with a twinkle in his eyes.

"And also," as he started nuzzling her throat, "that it's absolutely, irrevocably addictive."

She wholeheartedly agreed, acknowledging the power of such an addiction. After all the last eight years of her life bore witness to exactly the same kind of craving.


End file.
